James Mai

11/1/09

Memoir

Getting into High School

Introduction

            As many of my classmates know, high school is a really stressful process, especially for me. Right after 8th grade started I attended a school called Ivy Prep. It’s not like any other school. In this school, their main goal is to get kids into the top 3 specialized high school (Stuyvesant, Brooklyn Tech, and Bronx Science) in New York. After my regular school, which ends at 4:15, I have to attend Ivy Prep from 4:30- 7:30. On the weekends I have to go there from 1:30- 6 and sometimes until 8 if we have test. In addition to all this the secretaries are really mean, in particular this really short women called Melissa. Whenever we’re in class she will look trough the window to see if anyone is talking. If they are talking they get pulled out. Most of the times, people get pulled out for no apparent reason. Also whenever you ask her a question, she doesn’t answer you. Furthermore, every Tuesday we have to meet with the principal of the school, Mr. Wong for extra work.  He is just a really dumb guy with big glasses, and a big nose. Ironically, he got many kids into Stuyvesant. The homework he gives us is even more ridiculous, but I don’t feel like getting into detail. Besides, he made us promise not to tell anyone otherwise his “secret” for getting into the top 3 specialized high schools. In addition to this, he tells us to skip our regular school because his thinks it is not necessary for us to get into Stuyvesant. He rather make us stay home and do all of his homework.

            However, even under all this stupid stuff, great things happened. I met most of my old classmates from back in Elementary school that I haven’t met for a long time. First, there is Michael. He was a really smart kid and one of my closest from in 5th grade, but he looks really different now, since he has long hair. Next, is Sophie, I met her back in 3rd and 4th grade at this summer program. Then, there was Wilson, he never was much of a friend, but it was good seeing him now. I also made some new friends, such as Oliver, he is a really random guy. Every time in class he will walk out the room and some back all of a sudden.

                                                        Chapter 1 Cutting Classes 

            “Guys, move to 208(208 is just a number to name the rooms),” said Melissa in a really squeaky voice.

            All of the students got their book bags and began to move over to 208.

            “When is Mr. Wong coming?” said Roy, one of the students there.

            Melissa made a face, “He’ll be coming soon,” sighed Melissa.

            We settled down and began doing homework. Melissa wrote down a bunch of names on the board. She did this to determine which student will go and see Mr. Wong first. I was always last and this ticked me off.

                        Here: 1.Oliver                           Absent: Christine

                                     2. Jason                                        Wilson

                                     3. Michael                                    Vincent               

                                     4. Roy                                          Alex

                                     5. David

                                     6. Sophie

                                     7. James

            “Oh my gosh, I’m 6th again,” complained David, a student who currently attends Brooklyn Tech.

            “I know right, me and James are always the last ones,” said Sophie.

            “Hey where is Oliver?” I asked.

            “I don’t know, he comes late every time, why even bother with him,” sneered Jin, one of the newer students there.

            Melissa walked out the room.

            “Yo, James, how many pages do we need to do for the SAT math workbo-,” Michael’s question was interrupted by Melissa.   

            “Sorry guys, you all have to move back to 206,” said Melissa cheerfully. She loves to see us suffer.

            “YO, that’s           ,” shouted Jin.

            “Well if you have a problem speak with Mr. Wong about it,” replied Melissa.

            We all hastily walked down the dirty hallway filled with crumbled paper, to 206. By the stairs was a girl about the age of 17 with blonde hair. She turned around. It was Ruby, Sophie’s sister.

            “Hey Ruby,” I said.

            “Hi James, is Sophie here?” she asked.

            “I’m right here!” exclaimed Sophie.

            “Oh, my bad. Mom told me to pick you up today.”

            “Ok, sure.”

            As I walked into 206, I felt an aura of evilness. Not really evil but bad. I walked into 206 and surely Mr. Wong was there sitting at the front left corner of the room smiling as we walked in. His weird smile always gave us the Goosebumps. It was somewhat disturbing. You could never read Mr. Wong’s expression. It is just too unpredictable. One second is smiling at you, they other he will yell at you for not doing your homework.

            “How are you guys doing?” asked Mr. Wong.

            No one answered. Oliver suddenly bolted into the room.

            “Hey guys, was sup,” he said.

            No one answered because of Mr. Wong’s presence in the room.

            “Oliver, come over here, you are the first one today,” he said nonchalantly.

            Oliver sat down in the seat right in front of Mr. Wong. He reached for his book bag and took out one Webster’s New World Dictionary, Scarlet Letters, Ivanhoe, Jane Eyre, and Prince and the Pauper.

            “Show me your yellow slip (A.K.A a post it in which he writes down the homework for you to work on the following week) now.”

            Oliver handed his yellow slip to Mr. Wong. Mr. Wong then looked at his book. His face looks taut. Oliver probably forgot to do his homework again. This was not a surprise because Oliver never does his homework.

            “Aahh, Oliver you have to work harder, you can’t win a school if you slack off. Did you review you’re your English homework?” asked Mr. Wong.

            “No, I don’t have time to; I have a lot of projects from my school.”

            “Oh, no, don’t worry about your school homework. It won’t help you win a school. Do my homework and you’ll be ok.”

            “But I will get zapped by my teachers.”

            “Zapped?”

            “Yes.”

            “What do you mean by ‘Zap’?”

            “I can’t really explain it.”

            “Well, just do what I say and you will get into Stuyvesant,” assured Mr. Wong. “You can drop out of school like I told you last week.”

            “But I’ll get zapped.”

            “Well you won’t get zapped if you drop out of school.” argued Mr. Wong. “Did I ever tell you guys a story about this girl who dropped out of school?”

            It was silent.

            “Anyways, I had this student who was a girl. She looked extremely weak, as if she would die at any minute. Just like I told you guys, I told her class to drop out too. No one dared to skip school. So one day, she skipped school. No one believed her. However, as she kept skipping school her scores on the mock test got better. The guys in her class felt ashamed and cowardly. So they also started to skip school. They also noticed that during the time they skipped school, they got a lot better at the mock test, and they all went to Stuyvesant, Brooklyn Tech, or Bronx Science. So as you can see, skipping school will help you win a school. If you don’t do it you will score really badly on the SHSAT. If will destroy your future.”

            It was still silent.

            “So Jason (a kid who currently goes to Stuyvesant. He is here because he is part of the Go Harvard program.) did you skip school last semester.

            “No, I’m a good boy.”

            Everyone was laughing, even Melissa, this was really rare.

 

            Finally it was my turn to meet with Mr. Wong. I gave him my book and the post it notes with my homework on it. Just like Oliver I don’t do much of his homework. However, Mr. Wong doesn’t ever seem to notice this. As I waited patiently for him to check my homework I felt two negative auras floating in the air. It was hard to describe these two auras.

            “Ok, James this week you had a….” Mr. Wong looked at my tan portfolio and found my test score for Sunday’s mock test. “Wow, James you improved a lot. You have a new high of 600. But you still need to work on your English.

            Oh, yes! I’m so pro, I got a 600, and I can probably make it into Brooklyn Tech now.

            “But then again, just because you have a 600 doesn’t mean you can slack off.” Mr. Wong opened my big SAT book to the big vocabulary page.

            Oh, no. He better not ask me how to define on of those words. I never read it. It was completely silent. Mr. Wong was still flipping the pages. My heart was pumping so hard I felt like it was going to explode. Mr. Wong was slowly opening his lips. Oh, no I’m screwed. If I don’t know what the word is, he is going to make me stay extra late. Slowly and slowly he is opening his lips.

            “So James, what do you think…” he didn’t finish his sentence. He then looked down on the page.

Ugh, quickly just give me a word; I’ll probably have to stay late anyways. I felt a cool droppings fall down my cheek. I touched my forehead only to notice I was full of sweat. Mr. Wong was about to say a word.

            “So, what do you think you’ll do the last 20 days to improve upon the arrival of the SHSAT?”

            Oh my god, he got me really scared. However I was really relieved.

            “Well, I think I’ll be working more on my English.”

            “Yea, you’re absolutely right. For the next 20 days, just work on your vocabulary.” He smiled at me. “Bye, James, see you next week.”

            “Bye,” I said. I quickly got my stuff and went out the door. That was a pretty intense meeting with him. I called my dad to take me home. What a rough day!